


Chez Valentin

by NatashaDuLac



Category: Queen (Band)
Genre: Angst, Barbara Valentin POV, Based on a True Story, Friendship, Gen, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, Munich - Freeform, Sharing a Bed, Taxes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-26
Updated: 2020-06-02
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:46:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24386920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NatashaDuLac/pseuds/NatashaDuLac
Summary: A quiet, or perhaps not-so-quiet, night at Barbara’s flat in Munich.
Relationships: Freddie Mercury/Winnie Kirchberger
Comments: 7
Kudos: 11





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [freddieofhearts](https://archiveofourown.org/users/freddieofhearts/gifts).



> This is based on a real incident that Barbara related later, after Freddie died, although the details she gave will appear almost entirely in chapter two.

Freddie didn’t usually sleep well, he was such a restless little thing, but we were all exhausted - not that I’m prepared to admit why I was so tired! You can probably guess what Winnie and Freddie had been getting up to. 

Winnie was glowering but he was in a good mood, really. He was being kind to Freddie. And Freddie had had such a nice time he was walking funny! 

Anyway, he ate hardly any supper, even less than usual, and he was all droopy against me, like a little boy. His skin felt hot. I told Peter I’d take him home with me, look after him overnight, no matter if he was ill. That man never had a break! Freddie was a slave driver, he really was. But sweet as Belgian chocolate.

I wasn’t expecting Winnie to insist on coming, he didn’t like my flat much. I’d taken Freddie home with me before, although more often from a club! But Winnie didn’t want to go anywhere else, he was clearly drunk on Freddie, and Freddie couldn’t say no to him... And I couldn’t refuse Freddie; he flashed those big brown eyes at me and I melted! 

I think Peter was worried about leaving him with me, but he was always like that - very protective. We ended up back at my flat, Freddie and I with Winnie for company, and Freddie looked all eyes and moustache, poor thing. He was sweaty and tired, he could hardly stay awake once we were all in the bedroom, so Winnie and I undressed him together.

It was the most gentle I’d ever seen Winnie be with him. Maybe because it was his birthday the next day, and Freddie could be difficult and sulky if he was upset, so Winnie wanted him in a good mood. Or maybe he was really feeling protective, seeing how sleepy Freddie was.

Anyway, Winnie took him off to the bathroom to brush his teeth and all that, still being much nicer to him than usual, and then when they came back, I tucked Freddie up in my own bed, switched off the lights, and took Winnie into the salon for a glass of Schnapps! 

It was still much too early for us and we sat up drinking another hour or so, fatigued as we were. 

Winnie and I couldn’t agree who should sleep in there with Freddie - he couldn’t manage a whole night alone, he always needed someone with him. He wouldn’t even go to the toilet by himself, he was so fearful. In the end, not coming to any compromise, we just both slept in the bed with him. It was comical in a way, sweet Freddie more or less out cold... and he’s such a quiet sleeper, he never snores. And then Winnie and I sprawled on either side like a parody of Papa and Mama! A more perverted family scene can hardly be imagined, considering what we’d have got up to if he’d so much as stirred. 

He didn’t, though, not for hours. Poor baby, he really was worn out, I can’t think - or I’d better not - what Winnie had been doing with him, as some sort of early birthday treat. 

He never snored, he only breathed very softly, and it didn’t seem to be one of his bad dream nights, thank goodness. Those are a lot more work, and they make me think he can’t possibly be paying Peter enough. He just slept. I may have tickled him a bit but even that didn’t rouse him, not at all! 

I went off to sleep peacefully too, after a while.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this brightens your day a bit, FoH! And it’s grown to three chapters :D

When he did wake up it was grey early morning outside, and I’d only been awake ten minutes or so myself. No hangover, thank the angels. 

I was sipping some water quietly and rubbing off my face cream, the one that smells fishy. It works wonders but I can’t bear to leave it on longer than a few hours. Even if I’m going back to sleep (which I thought was likely), I prefer to get it off me! 

Freddie was curled up against Winnie’s side so when he gave a little jump and woke, it made Winnie wake up too. I don’t think it was an unpleasant awakening on his birthday, but he looked like a big fat grizzly as he shoved Freddie away slightly. 

Freddie latched onto me, wanting embraces of course, he was always like that. In the very first minute of being awake, he’d asked for Peter - his Phoebe - before any lover, or even his mother. Rather pitiful, I thought, even at the time. 

I was stroking his eyebrows as he wriggled up close to me, but then came a banging on the entrance of the flat, the outer door - God knows what the neighbours thought was happening, they already hated me - and Freddie shot out of bed like a startled rabbit. 

I thought he was going to burst into tears, and I was putting on my robe - a new one, or new then, silver satin - and trying to quickly think what to say to him, but he was scurrying away, already, then back in an instant, crying that it was the police. 

Goodness, he was a sight! So naked and hairy and skinny, nothing like the big celebrity everyone thinks of, much too small and scared, running round my flat shrieking at me. Winnie was scrambling for clothes too, but I think he’d left his in the bathroom, there was nothing at hand, and he took the bedsheet. 

Freddie could’ve worn something of mine easily, but he was too frantic, and only yesterday my Putzfrau had rearranged everything so even I didn’t know where things were. 

The long and the short of it was, my poor boy ended up in nothing but a pretty towel I had at hand to dab my face with. It wouldn’t have done for either of us, he was the only one so slim round the hips: I wrapped it round him and tucked it tightly, horrified to feel how badly he was trembling. Our police are not _so_ unkind. 

“They can’t,” he wailed, clutching my wrist, “Barbara, don’t let them-”

But of course as you and I know, you don’t refuse entrance to the tax police! 

It wasn’t anything too awful, only a search - not that I enjoyed it, seeing all my nooks and crannies opened up. I can’t _think_ how anyone could have suspected me in the first place. But Winnie and I took it calmly. Poor Freddie wouldn’t sit still, though, and it was unmistakably obvious to me - I’m a mother, after all - even in the first couple of minutes what was wrong. He was desperate for the toilet, poor thing! And only that white face towel with its fine embroidery to cover his manhood, which ... made fidgeting dangerous. 

I really felt sorry for him, since it would be an undignified enough plight for an ordinary person, let alone a famous star. 

I don’t think Winnie noticed, he isn’t an observant man except when it comes to anything that might be a dalliance. But I was on the verge of interceding when Freddie did the unthinkable and spoke up for himself. I suppose he must have thought that asking permission from a tax policeman couldn’t be as embarrassing as a stain on my carpet would be. And I would have been annoyed, I don’t mind telling you! I’d had the floors redone only ten months earlier. 

Of course they let him go, they’re not monsters and it was clear he wasn’t pretending. He vanished into the bathroom at top speed and came out a couple of minutes later looking a lot less anxious, and having swapped his towel for a pair of boxer shorts. 

They were clearly Winnie’s, and much too big, but he looked pleased to be wearing anything other than a towel, so I didn’t say a word. I wanted to tease him about being brave enough to go to the toilet on his own with all these strange men about, but I knew he was very sensitive and it would upset him - and it’s a good thing I didn’t start, because only a moment later, he was recognised!


End file.
